Chapter 69: Incandescent !

"After that... I refused to dance with you. Because you were the one who asked me. I was still a caveman back then. In my world, men did the inviting, not the other way around."

He stepped closer, gently tilted his head toward her, and whispered into her ear:

"You were wearing a white silk dress... stunning... and very transparent."

Blanche nearly choked. Laughing, he brought her a glass of water. Then, as if to make up for it, he handed her the second plate beneath her murderous glare.

"You're not eating?" she asked, a touch of guilt slipping into her voice.

"I already ate with the guys, don't worry. These are for you."

She did not need convincing. No matter the universe, her husband cooked like a god.

"I quickly realized I'd been an idiot when I saw every guy who asked you to dance walk away with their tails between their legs. You hadn't accepted a single one."

He cleaned the kitchen while she finished her plate.

"The next day, you disappeared. At the time, I felt... genuinely awful. I spent the whole day thinking about you. And just as I was about to leave, an elf arrived with a letter."

He grabbed the last plate and washed it, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek in passing.

Blanche froze.

He... had kissed her?

"Beautiful handwriting," he continued. "The letter said: 'If you're tired of being alone, come north and find me in the highest Viking village. Ask to see where the snow is whitest. They'll bring you to me.'"

Slowly, he returned to her. She could feel his warmth, his scent, while he undid the thick braid atop her head. His fingers slid through her hair, rearranging it before letting it fall naturally.

"It took me a week to find you," he murmured, his mouth only inches from hers.

Then he stepped back, as though regaining control, his eyes darkened by excitement becoming almost black. He shook his head and burst out laughing.

"Argy answered the door. He shouted: 'Mom! It's probably that idiot from last time!' I remember answering: 'The idiot?' He let me in and said you'd have to be an idiot to refuse a dance with the most wonderful woman alive."

Still laughing, he stepped closer and placed his hands on either side of her. Overwhelmed by his contagious happiness, Blanche stayed perfectly still.

He was even more handsome when he laughed.

"I didn't even get the chance to defend myself..." he whispered near her ear.

A shiver ran through her.

Her body reacted despite herself — tense, awake, her eyes fixed on that mouth talking far too much when it could be doing... so much better.

"He was right."

Blanche bit her lip. His scent — citrus, cinnamon, and masculine warmth — chased away the lingering smell of cooking. Aaron's gaze drifted dangerously toward her raspberry-colored lips.

"You burst into the entrance," he continued, his voice rougher now. "Right in the middle of training, drenched in sweat... wearing only a sports bra and pants. Your hair tied up like always, that braid with those rebellious strands..."

His low voice, thick with desire, made her tremble. Beads of sweat still glistened along his forehead and neck, catching the dying red glow of the embers. Aaron's aura quivered, darkened by raw desire.

"The second I saw you again, I understood," he breathed. "I thought I had loved before, over the centuries... but I was wrong."

Then he moved toward her like a predator, hair falling across his eyes. His lips drew closer...

Only to drift aside and brush softly against her cheek.

Blanche shivered as he pressed himself delicately against her.

He continued downward while the hands resting on her thighs radiated heat as they slowly slid upward, contrasting with the coldness of his face. Meticulously, he licked her neck, gathering the salty beads from her skin with his tongue. Blanche closed her eyes in surprise, utterly overwhelmed, a soft moan escaping her lips as her head fell back, giving him even more access.

With a sudden movement, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the counter, pinning her fully against him. Hard, strong — a wall of ice and yet impossibly warm at the same time, like a pleasant burn. So pleasant that her body instinctively pressed closer against his, unable to resist.

Their bodies fit together perfectly, as though they had known each other forever and had been waiting for this alone. The red filaments in his aura intensified like the embers consuming them both.

Aaron's restraint remained flawless, though stretched to its absolute limit.

Heart racing, the young woman opened her eyes again as he lifted her chin with one finger, forcing her gaze to meet his.

"I love you," Aaron confessed.

Blanche saw the exact second his reason gave way to desire.

In response, she arched slightly toward him, offering silent consent.

The lips crashing onto hers were greedy, burning, impulsive. The kiss was a mixture of passion and love.

Aaron's hands, still gripping her hips, tightened hard enough to sink into her flesh while Blanche clung desperately to his shirt, moaning softly beneath the relentless exploration of his mouth. Their tongues brushed sensually, their breaths mingling together.

A low growl escaped him as one of his hands moved from her hip to her chest before sliding up to cradle her throat, deepening the kiss. Emboldened, fulfilled, letting desire speak for her, Blanche buried her fingers in Aaron's impossibly soft curls.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of her first kiss, her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

He caught her instantly, biting her lips again while teasing her tongue with his own. Then he lifted her, and she naturally wrapped her legs apart around him. As desperate as they both were, she could not suppress another moan when she felt just how intensely he desired her — how hard he already was for her.

Then, suddenly regaining awareness, he tore himself away from the kiss.

His eyes were feverish as he carefully set her back down on the counter. He immediately turned and strode toward the door at incredible speed, firm and determined, without even looking back at her.

Still, he paused at the doorway.

"Good night, Neige," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "And next time, it'll be your story. I can't wait to hear how you know you're a drakion."

Then he vanished in a breath, teleporting away and leaving her alone, trembling in the middle of the still-warm kitchen.

Blanche remained motionless for several seconds, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat, her legs barely steady, her entire body burning.

Then she forced herself to move, took a shower, and returned to her room.

If he had kept going...

She was almost certain that consequences or not, she would not have said no.

She almost regretted not daring to dump freezing water over herself.

A blissful smile spread across her lips as she lay down. The cool sheets against her skin made her sigh with happiness.

Aaron had kissed her.

And what a kiss it had been.

Fortunately, exhaustion eventually won out, because the burning urge to crawl beneath the covers beside him and continue exactly where they had stopped still lingered dangerously in the back of her mind.